In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask with a silent but crucial voice to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Continuation." The worker will look at you with cold, cruel eyes. He will not speak, he will simply shiver as if something disgusting has come over him, and lead you behind the desk through a wooden door that you did not notice before.

Before he even opens the door, you can smell the rot of the rust and the mold behind it. For half an hour, he will lead you through a long, spiral corridor, shivering and shaking from a mix of the deep cold, and of his own fear. He will stop in his tracks and look to the floor as if he was waiting for someone, and he will only move if you say "Step aside if fear what's ahead."

He will look at you one last time, then stare at the wall, and a door will appear where there was just emptiness of the brick. Walk through the new hallway presented to you, and look at the floor as if you dropped something, do not show any fear, no matter what noises protrude from the hall. A rattling voice will be heard as though it were right in front of you, and it will speak. "Your task is far from over, what do you wish to do?" Tell him you wish to continue and hold out your hand and ask "How can they continue?", for if you don't, he will ravage you and torture you until you wish to die in that very chamber.

The voice will tell you about every particle and germ, and every hand that was laid upon the objects, and how they survived as long as they did, if you did not break into tears or show any form of mental weakness, the holder will be heard smashing against the walls and screaming in horrible burning pain that can only be caused by hells fire.
The holder will appear from the darkness, but do not look up at him, to look up is to show weakness, and the need to give into him. you will feel something smooth, light, and feeling of cold metal fall into your hands, and the holder will fade back into the darkness, now free of his burden.

The Brass Horn is Object 367 of 538. No instrument can match the sorrow in its tone.